


if he only had a heart

by SmittyJaws



Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: Dorothy!Robert, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, Scarecrow!Jimmy, Strider the dog - Freeform, Tin Man!Jonesy, Wizard of Oz AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 12:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmittyJaws/pseuds/SmittyJaws
Summary: Jonesy’s been in these woods a long time.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	if he only had a heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittlePeony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlePeony/gifts).



> So back at the end of June, I was talking to LittlePeony on Tumblr, who told me about this cool idea she and a friend had been discussing for a Zeppelin Wizard of Oz AU, and she showed me [this art](https://smittyjaws.tumblr.com/post/626186407615004672/if-he-only-had-a-heart-led-zeppelin-fanfic) she’d done for it. Upon seeing it, and hearing some of the concepts, I knew I had to write something for this poor beleaguered tin man, and I hope you all like it too! _(Any deviations from the movie/books canon are my own and/or based on the info she gave me.)_

Jonesy’s been in these woods a long time.

How long, he doesn’t know; his internal chronometer stopped working a long time ago, and he’s lost track of time. But he knows it’s been a while. Days have passed, seasons have changed, and Jonesy has always been out in the woods, existing quietly.

He used to spend his days chopping wood to sell to anyone who needed firewood, exchanging what money he was given in return to buy himself oil to keep himself in good working order. But one day it had rained, and rained badly, and while Jonesy had tried to make it back to his small cabin in time to shelter himself, he hadn’t made it back in time, his joints rusting quickly and stiffening, leaving him stranded in the forest by the path, his oil can only a few short steps away.

And so he’s waited here for years this way; watched many people go walking by the path, but never pay him any mind. He tries to get their attention, but the most he can manage is quiet mumbles, the joints for his jaw having stiffened closed and leaving him silent.

At first he doesn’t mind so much and tries to think optimistically; while it’s a bit distressing to be stuck like this, it could be worse. He could be stuck further away in the forest, never to see anyone. He doesn’t need to eat or sleep, so it’s not like he’ll die from this. The weather is pleasant most of the time, and overall, conditions could be much more terrible. Surely someone will help him out soon, right?

Apparently not, as Jonesy finds out. People pass by daily, and yet, no one pays him any mind. Sometimes someone will point him out to their walking companions, but they always leave him be, and after a while, Jonesy’s hope of being released from standing here like a statue begins to plummet.

Leaves fall, winter comes, leaves grow, and he’s shaded again. Seasons change year after year, and no one thinks about him at all. No one seems to notice that he no longer sells his firewood, and he wonders if anyone knows what’s befallen him. Or cares.

Seasons change again, and it rains. It rains a lot.

Jonesy has always prided himself on the care and maintenance he pays to himself to keep him in working order; getting limbs repaired when they break down, making sure his steam gauges all work so he won’t overheat, getting himself re-plated when his coverings start to wear from use. 

But now, he’s outside in the elements at all times, and all that maintenance steadily goes to waste. Leaves fall on him and stick in the crevices to his joints, birds make a nest on his shoulder, pecking at him as though he’ll break off twigs and leave dents in the plating, and rain and snow turn his gauges into darkened malfunctioning messes, leaking and filling with water.

At some point, he even loses vision in his left eye due to parts breaking down, and Jonesy can’t even muster up the ability to feel upset by that anymore; after all, what’s another thing to break down?

Seasons change, again and again, and rather than wish for rescue, Jonesy finds himself wistful. So many people come by, chatting with each other, and he misses the company. Misses having conversations with others.

He listens in eagerly to whatever they talk about on their way past; maybe it’s rude to eavesdrop, but his days are so quiet otherwise, and the little snippets of conversations he picks up are enough to make things feel a little better. He imagines what he’d say in return if he could reply, and what other things they might talk about.

It’s also not just the conversation he misses, but the companionship. He’s always lived alone in the forest, and that’s never troubled him before, but when he sees all the people passing by, he feels a certain longing whenever he sees a couple walk by hand in hand.

It’s beautiful, he thinks. They say sweet things to each other, exchange shy kisses when they think no one is looking (and technically, Jonesy’s not alive anyway, so maybe he’s no one after all), and sometimes they pick flowers for each other from the edge of the path.

He wonders what that’s like; being in love. It’s the one thing he knows he’ll never experience in his life— after all, you can’t feel an emotion in your heart if you have no heart to speak of.

He’s wondered about that in the past, sometimes. Opened up the panels that cover his chest area and looked at the noticeably empty spot that could have held a heart of some fashion. Wonders what his life might have been like if he could feel what living beings do when they’re in love.

He’s seen many different forms of love over the years too. The Munchkins are childlike, giggling and blushing whenever their companions offer them tokens of affection. The Quadlings are friendly and smile often when with their loved ones. The Winkies are practical, offering gifts and things that are of use to their companions. He’s never seen any Gillikins along this part of the woods, but they most likely have all sorts of other ways they treat their loved ones as well.

All of it looks lovely, Jonesy thinks, and that’s something he wants for himself. They all look so happy together, exchanging kisses and embraces and all sorts of poetic words to express themselves, and he wants to experience that too.

Only... he can’t, can he?

Even if he weren’t stuck here; trapped by the rust and dirt and water and neglect that’s overtaken him, he’d still be missing a heart, and you rather need one of those to be able to experience love, don’t you?

Jonesy sighs— or rather, he _would_ sigh, if his mouth was still capable of opening. Idly, he thinks of the stories he’d heard ages back about a wizard that lived in the Emerald City, who supposedly could grant wishes.

Jonesy knows what he would wish for; no questions asked. No more of this dull empty feeling he feels when he sees couples come by, but instead, get to experience it all himself. But this, of course, all hinges on him being oiled and cleaned off so he can travel to see the Wizard in the first place, and that doesn’t look like it’s happening any time soon.

Seasons pass, time flies, and soon, fewer and fewer people come by Jonesy’s part of the woods. It makes him appreciate passersby all the more, but it also makes things much more lonely, and Jonesy sometimes wonders how long he’ll have to wait like this until he breaks down entirely.

Then one day, some time later, Jonesy can hear the sounds of people coming up the path. There’s the sound of a dog panting eagerly, and the footsteps of someone, and the swishing of hay, and now Jonesy’s confused. A farmer? Most farmers don’t go through his part of the woods; it’s a bit of a detour from the rest of the fields and towns.

Then he realizes he can hear two voices talking; two men by the sounds of it (but only one set of footsteps? How odd), and Jonesy waits for them to pass by and leave him alone again.

But then something happens that he doesn’t expect: the footsteps approach him.

He can’t turn his head to look, and his one good eye has been flickering in and out of working order for a while, but he sees a blond man coming closer. “What’s this? Jimmy, this looks like a man!”

The sound of hay rustling approaches, and now Jonesy can see... a scarecrow? Well, that explains why he only heard one set of footsteps earlier. “A man made of tin? Don’t be ridiculous; it’s probably a statue,” the scarecrow— Jimmy? —scoffs, and if Jonesy were still capable of rolling his eyes, he would. He’s a _talking scarecrow_ ; he really has no room to talk about what’s realistic or not.

As it is, he does his best to articulate what he needs through his stiffened and closed mouth; this may be his only chance. “ _llcn_.”

“What’s that?” The blond man frowns. “Did you say something? Jimmy, I think he’s trying to talk!”

He bustles around, clearing off branches and debris from Jonesy, Jimmy helping as well, but stopping when Jonesy tries again: “ _LLCN_.”

He’s not entirely certain how, but somehow the blond’s eyes light up in realization. “He said ‘oil can!’”

“ _‘Oil can’_ what?” Jimmy frowns now, and the blond rolls his eyes. Jonesy prays that they grasp his meaning; that they turn and see where his oil can is sitting just a few steps away. If they don’t, he’s done for.

But the blond turns and points it out, walking over and grabbing it before walking back to Jonesy, smiling brightly now. “Here we are! Where would you like to be done first?”

His mouth would be a fantastic place to start, so he could communicate again, but of course Jonesy can’t tell them that, and waits for them to draw their own conclusions.

“Probably his mouth, so he can talk to us himself,” Jimmy remarks dryly before taking the can from the blond man and using it to oil up the hinges on Jonesy’s jaw, and Jonesy thanks whoever might be listening for sending these two odd companions by.

It’s a slow process after that, methodically going over his joints and easing them back into movement after so long having been stuck in one position, and Jonesy’s first few steps are incredibly shaky, but he’s not rusted in place anymore!

He knows he must still look a sight, what with the rust patches all over his body plates, and the malfunctioning gauges meddling with his displays, but his internal workings are miraculously alright, and that’s what matters, isn’t it?

When the blond man (who Jonesy learns is named Robert) and Jimmy tell him they’re off to see the Wizard to send Robert home and to give Jimmy brains, Jonesy perks up. Maybe this is the chance he needs to finally get his own wish granted.

“Can I come with you?” he asks, hoping against hope that they say yes. He’s missed having company for so long, and traveling with others would be nice (as well as a way to make sure he doesn’t rust away on his own again). “I’d like to see the Wizard as well.”

Robert doesn’t even hesitate before nodding, grinning widely at him. “Yeah, of course! The more the merrier, right, Jimmy?”

Jimmy only shrugs, but somehow Jonesy knows he agrees, and he can already feel his spirits lifting as they start their walk down the road, Robert asking all sorts of questions about him and his intentions to see the Wizard, as well as explaining his and Jimmy’s own stories.

He likes them already, and even if he still can’t completely see properly or look as tidy as he normally would, it’s still a far cry from the despair he’d felt that morning before they’d arrived. Now, he’ll finally be able to have a heart of his own, and fall in love the way everyone else does!

Jonesy has a good feeling about this journey.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also @smittyjaws on Tumblr!


End file.
